This Monster
by JL Hughes
Summary: VeryAU. Leads up to the Jedi Strike Team to capture Revan. In a galaxy being taken over by the New Sith Order, intrigue & deception are rampant as Bastila desperately tries to stop Darth Revan despite her passed relationship & feelings for him.
1. Destiny

The fire licked the logs; dancing in and out of the heated cracks.

Across the room, a man sat stiffly in a high chair. He was mesmerized by the intricate dance and flow the flames seemed to weave, enticing him.

There was a knock at the door.

The man sighed. "Enter," he said with slight annoyance.

A quivering man shuffled across the threshold. This man was by no means small. His biceps alone were the size of Dantooine waterfruit. He spoke. "L-L-Lord Revan?"

The man in the chair spoke again in a hard commanding voice. "What is it, Rovert?"

Rovert quivered. "T-there are people to see you, My Lord."

The man in the chair sighed again. Why could he not have more then a few hours of solitude?

"Let them in," he said calmly enough.

Rovert stumbled over his feet in haste to leave his master. "Y-yes, My Lord!"

The Lord was grateful for his short time of peace before his unexpected guests arrived.

He narrowed his eyes. There was good news and bad news.

A moment later, there was another knock. However, this time, instead of being soft and nervous, it was hard and demanded to be answered.

"Enter," the Sith said.

Several important people walked in. One was the Lord's equivalent.

Lord Revan bowed his head respectively to Lord Asil. "Good evening. What brings you around my quarters so late?" He turned and walked around his chair and retrieved a bottle of an amber colored liquid and two cups.

Asil bowed his head in respect and took the cup as Revan poured a healthy amount of the liquid into it. "I have good news and bad news, Lord Revan. But I surmise you already knew that?" Asil asked in mockery.

Revan poured himself some of the strange liquid. "Please, sit." He gestured for Asil to continue.

"It seems that after five long years, the war is finally over. You now have the control and complete cooperation of the system. Only the rest of the galaxy to go…." Asil smiled fully now, revealing crooked, yellowing teeth.

"Excellent," Revan said choosing to ignore the last part. He took his seat and swiveled the chair around to face the others. "And you?"

Asil spoke first. "They are the surrendering delegation party from the opposing planet. They are here to speak of terms regarding the treaty."

Revan paused. He had one of three choices, one was to ask what the terms were, two was to laugh and ask what the bad news was or three was to pull out his weapon of choice and tell them that they will agree on _his_ terms or no terms at all. However, if word reached back to the Republic, that he had been anything except diplomatic, the effect would be traumatizing for his reputation and his plan.

Revan was a wise man – however young – and knew when to show his aggressive, fearsome side; this was not that time. He nodded to the delegation implying that they could speak.

A man with a short white beard stepped forward. "I am here to represent Shan and the Je–"

Anger rose from Revan and radiated throughout his quarters. Immediately the man with the beard stopped talking. Shan! A strange sensation expanded in his chest. A sensation he had not felt since…. He shook it off.

"No." Revan slammed his drink down causing some of the strange liquid to slosh out. He turned and pressed a button on his chair. "Rovert!" he barked.

Not even a second later, Rovert came shuffling through the doorway. "Yes, My Lord?"

Revan stood and strode over to his wardrobe and started pulling robes, tunics and cloaks out. "Get my ship. Have it ready before I am down there." he breathed.

"Yes, immediately, Lord Revan!" Rovert said and ran from the room.

Asil looked at Revan with some skepticism. "She will never see you. She knows of you reputation," he spoke lazily. "You seem to forget that you two went to the same Academy. And because you left, and her loyalty to the council, she _will_ not see you."

He had not forgotten. He could never forget. It was a well concealed secret that he and Shan had…known each other. It was, of course, common knowledge that Revan and Shan had attended the same Academy and had even had a few of the same masters and lessons, but the fact that he and Shan had…_known_ each other was a secret he was not yet prepared to reveal to the Republic.

Revan straitened up. He looked at Asil with a cold expression. "She will," he breathed. He knew she would see him as they both had a mutual interest. Revan knew she would like to see the development of this interest.

He looked at the man with the beard. "I have nothing further to say to you. You will leave. Do you understand?" Revan said with venom positively dripping from his voice.

The man gulped and nodded vigorously.

Revan smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Good." He strode out of the room with clothes case in hand.

He didn't want to see her. He _needed_ to see her.

XxX

Revan had always been eager to learn. Ambitious. He often thought of himself as a black hole, sucking up everything around himself; just taking anything and everything in. Nothing he seemed to learn was enough. One thing would lead to another; to learn this, he needed to learn that; but to learn that he had to get more information on how to perfect this. He wanted more. He _needed_ more. He strived to _know,_ not just _learn._ However, there was never enough to know. After mastering one thing, he quickly found something else to know and conquer. He remembered learning everything fast. Too fast, he was often told by scolding masters and jealous apprentices. They all seemed increasingly worried about the rate at which Revan learned. Recklessly fast, with no time to lament what he had learned.

Revan was on a small ship, flying to the small world to settle the terms of the treaty. He would land on a small moon near the planet, and then have a shuttle take him to his designated area. The reason he was not able to land directly on the planet was a small legion of royal guards that didn't like the idea of being conquered by "a ruthless killer that hides behind the senate, with what he calls 'justifications of genocide' like a coward." That was what the HoloNet news report had said anyway.

Revan just smiled. If only they knew how ruthless he could be.

He was currently sitting on the floor at the base of his bed, with his legs crossed. He flipped them out from underneath him and stretched. Meditating had a nasty habit of cramping up his legs. Always had. After a quick stretch, he folded his long legs under him again and rubbed his eyes tiredly. With a wide yawn he would not have permitted within company, he switched the overhead light off as it often distracted him with menial things such as time.

Revan's eyes adjusted to the darkness as he looked around his small cabin on _The Battlefront._

A small blue light caught his attention from the corner of his eye. He smiled sadly and looked over at the small holoprojector, sitting on the otherwise vacant table next to his bed. The blue glow from the projection threw the room into an eerie blue light. The image depicted a small girl of about four or five with auburn hair and dancing eyes, hugging the life out of what seemed to be a small stuffed bantha. Her smile was infectious, and seemed to light up the entire cabin even through the unrealistic graphics of the projection. Soon Revan found himself smiling widely, too.

He shook his head slightly and turned his attention to his old Academy acquaintance. He was not very enthusiastic about seeing the newly appointed Head of Diplomatic Affairs again. However, he supposed, it had been a long time coming and he could no longer avoid it. Revan had often wondered about her. He knew that she had not left the Academy. He had not been in contact with her since he left the Academy nearly two years ago. Even if he had been in contact with her, Revan surmised, she would have no doubt severed the connection soon after his leave of the Academy. Hearing about what all he had done. How he had changed. Had he been in her position, he would have done the same.

He had heard about her on the HoloNet, of course. Who hadn't? How she had the voice of authority with considerable weight in the Galactic Senate (even though she was not a senator). How she had been appointed the official liaison (complete with ceremony) between the Jedi and The Republic.

Revan was there. At the ceremony. He was, of course, invited because of his high standing within the military. He remembered because it had only been a year since he had left the Academy.

He remembered standing across the large conference room after the ceremony, watching people standing in a line, waiting to shake her hand, give her a light hug, or a soft kiss on her cheek. He remembered how the soft lights from above cast a warm glow on her skin as she smiled and talked animatedly with a few of the guests, how after laughing, a strand of auburn hair would slip out of her hair tales and the light would catch it just right, making it seem transparent and ever so slightly jewel-like. She would sweep it behind her ear and go on thanking the guests. He remembered how her real smile and her artificial smile would contrast each other in a thousand different ways, but her mouth and how it curved upward, never varied. Revan remembered how when she was nervous, she would shift her weight from one foot to the other. How her eyes seemed to hold sparkling dancers in greens and vibrant blues when she turned her head to greet a new guest.

However, what Revan remembered the most, with every detail etched and seared into his memory, was when she spotted him from across the hall. Her easy laughing died, her genuine smile flat lined, and her eyes turned hard and cold as they fell upon him. Even her hair, Revan recalled, seemed to repel the natural light that shone through the hall, making her seem cold and distant.

It seemed to be a frozen moment just between them. She regarded him with cold fury and he looked upon her with slight amusement and even more regret.

He knew that she would have loved to attack him. What she did next, however, did not surprise him. She turned back to the next guest in line, like a good little Jedi, and smiled, shook his hand, briefly talking to him, and then allowed him to move on. Revan noticed, however, that her smile was never genuine after their encounter. It was disappointing. She had such a beautiful smile…. That was a year ago.

He shook his head as he pulled himself out of his reverie.

Revan was disgusted with himself. He was a sentimental fool and needed to curtail his longings and wishes. He had to do what was his destiny, no matter what. Even if he hated himself for it.

He had to break his chains, because therein lies victory. It would set him free. He began his breathing exercises, slow and deep. Closing his eyes, he slipped into the Force. His Force. His life. Revan's victory.

XxX

"What!?" Bastila exclaimed in an outrage. "He's coming _here?_ _Now?_ Why?" she stormed.

The messenger, (who was a survivor of the last battle) just shook his head. "I don't know. The representatives just said that he refused to talk to them. You'll have to ask Bosk when he gets down here."

"He refused to talk to them?" she said rather baffled. She turned to rugged looking man next to her. "Can he do that?"

The man shrugged in response.

"Right," she went on, "well this is just…not what I was going for at all." She turned back to the messenger. "Thank you, Solo."

Solo nodded his head once, turned sharply on his heel and exited the room.

She was in a small room with three other beings. Two Noghri bodyguards (whom she was convinced she did not need) and the rugged looking man who was her close friend and advisor Carth Onasi, a human, who was currently a lieutenant in the Republic Army. Onasi and Shan both sat at a relatively small table with the Noghri guards flanking the door that lead into a larger room.

Onasi shook his head dejectedly, decidedly lost for words. Bastila groaned and rather unceremoniously dropped her head down on her arms.

What was the galaxy coming to? she wondered. Was the Senate really going to let Revan do what he wanted, unchecked and unsupervised? Already he had been linked (not directly) with the bombing of Telos V (Carth's homeworld), and a mass genocide on an unknown planet on the very fringes of Known Space. Not to mention he had been spotted with some very shoddy characters on some backwater planets. But he seemed to have been spotted the most in Hutt Space, mostly on Nar Shadaa and Nal Hutta. He'd also been spotted on Koriban of all places. In addition to a number of other planets including Tatooine, Manaan, and Kashyyyk (What he was doing there, Bastila could only imagine) with very strange new, ships and other technology.

It was also rumored that he had taken on an apprentice of unknown origin and species. Pure speculation, she was sure, but very disturbing nonetheless.

With all these new developments, she desperately needed to speak to the Council on Dantooine, but because of the last battle, the communications array had been destroyed and therefore was only capable of short range communications. The only other option was to get on a ship and actually go to Dantooine, which was completely out of the question, as Revan would be arriving in less then twenty-four hours.

This was too much right now. Not only was she supposed to be restoring order on Onderon, she was supposed to be keeping the Council informed of Revan's movement. _Well,_ she thought bitterly, _we certainly know what his next movement is now, don't we?_

He had to be stopped. And soon too. The galaxy could not go on like this forever. He would snake his hands around the whole thing with no one to realize it until it was too late, or everyone would notice but the galaxy would be split, throwing it into civil war. Bastila didn't know which one was his plan, but knew that both ended the same way. With Revan coming out on top. The sole victor and "savior" of the galaxy.

"What a Hutt-slime." Carth finally seemed to know what he wanted to say. There was a pause, an angry sigh, then a stream of words that made Bastila's ears burn. All seemingly describing Revan's parentage and his likeness to poodoo.

Bastila, although shocked, and with a slight twinge of annoyance, only had one thing to say. "I agree," she said without a trace of humor.

Just then, there was a small knock at the door, and a silver plated protocol droid clanked into the already cramp room.

"Pardon my intrusion, Lady Shan, but there has been a development on the communications array, and you are needed in the control room right away," said the droid with a pre-programmed voice that gyrated on Bastila's already shredded nerves.

"What is it? Have they fixed it?" she snapped at once.

"Err, no, Miss, I do not think so. They seem to be getting a transm—"

Bastila cut across the droid. "A transmission?" she asked, perplexed. "We can't send or receive transmissions. Our array was knocked out. One of those carbon sucking Sith smashed into it."

The droid seemed momentarily speechless. "I am quite sure, Miss. The communications officer was in quite a dither. Saying something about a Lord Revan arriving early to Dxun."

"Bloah!" Carth exclaimed.

"What?" shrieked Bastila at the same instant.

The droid, under the impression that it had said something wrong, quickly amended his blunder. "Please, Lady Shan, the officer requested that I fetch you immediately. If you will please make your way to the lower control room…." The droid turned and shuffled out the door, followed by Bastila, Carth and the two Noghri.


	2. En Route

_**A/N**_**: I'm not gunna lie and tell you that the last chapter was the best. In fact, it was pretty crappy. I first wrote that first part as a joke when I was still in the 8th grade. Only just recently did I pick it back up again, and you can really see how my writing has improved. So I ask you all, to just give it a try, and please read and reveiw. It really sucks when I've put so much time and effort into this and I don't get any reviews but I get over 100 hits on it. So please, let me know what you think of this. I promise you won't be dissapointed as the story goes along.**

XxX

The quiet hum of twin ion engines could be enough to put anyone to sleep. Anyone who had traveled as much as Revan, anyway. The constant sound coupled with the slight rocking of the ship was all he needed to relax and sleep. It was just one of those things that was always there, even though Revan rarely took notice of it, he knew it was always there. He only paid it attention when it wasn't there; that constant, never ceasing hum. Even when he was asleep, he knew the hum was there, knew when it wasn't, knew that the only reason its constant hum should vary in any way would be on approach to Dxun.

Revan sat where he had been sitting for the last two hours. In front of his bunk, meditating.

Dxun…he had not been there in nearly five years. Since the beginning of the war at least.

The real war was only just beginning. The Mando'a Wars were just the precursor, just the beginning of a war that would last until the end of the Republic at least; a bloody, violent and quiet war. One that people didn't even know they were fighting. And not even he could stop it. All he could do was postpone it, and prepare the Republic. Eventually, he knew, the Republic would fall, but it would do so quietly, its inhabitants not even knowing, or realizing that their beloved government was being corrupted form the inside, not the outside as they all believed. And all he could do was postpone it. If he succeeded then it wouldn't happen until millennia from now. _If_ he succeeded.

Revan turned his mind back to the here and now. He had already steered it away from one disaster, and now…now he was regarded as a monster, a cold hearted man with no feeling, when all he was trying to do was make the Republic stronger. If he hadn't defied the Order and intervened in the Mando'a Wars, then they would all be speaking an ancient language, not heard since the Great Hyperspace Wars. Not Mandalorian, as they had all assumed. But it didn't matter how he was seen now, just that the Republic was safe and united against a common foe instead of crumbling from the inside because of the bickering politicians, only intrested in their own means of power.

Did he really care that _he_ was that common foe? He did not know. All he knew was that because of him, he had bought the people of the Republic more time then they deserved. And he also knew they were wasting it. But it didn't matter. He'd be dead and gone when it finally did collapse.

He steeled himself. If they needed a common foe, well damnit, he'd be their foe.

He shook it off. This kind of thinking was not productive for his meditation. He cleared his mind easily. No thought, no emotion, just himself and the Force. He dived deeper, enjoying the calmness and serenity of the Force. Wanting more, he dived deeper and deeper, not only into the Force but also into himself. An overwhelming feeling suddenly exploded in his mind, spreading quickly throughout his body, tightening in his chest, making his pulse quicken.

He and the feeling wrestled for control for long agonizing seconds. It gripped at his heart, telling him what he knew to be true was wrong, clouding his mind with doubt, causing his focus to slip…. Then quite as suddenly as it had come, it was gone, leaving only the lingering feelings of confusion and doubt.

Revan's mind reeled…what had that been? What did it mean? He regained his focus and delved into the memory of the feeling…he could feel it…he was almost there…. He doubled his efforts to find out what he had experienced. It seemed important. No. it did not _seem_ important, it _was_ important. He needed to know why he had experienced this….

It taunted him, dangled the answer in his face, then whipped it out off sight when he tried to grab for it…it was like finding the key to a chest that held everything he ever needed to know…finding the key, placing it into the key hole, his tension mounting, his rush of exhilaration…then having the key break off in his hand after he tried to turn it….

Images flashed through his mind…faces he had not seen since he left the Academy…but they were not as he remembered them; instead of clean, crisp faces full of life and color, he saw the faces darkened by soot, deadened from malnutrition…pale and gaunt…. They were fugitives…survivors of a…purge….

More images flashed, but this time they were faces that hit him harder and closer to his heart…he saw his little girl, his little Kamryn, holding hands with a man surrounded in darkness…her bright face looking up adoringly at the Dark Man…. It gripped his heart in an ice cold iron grip. The Council… the Council on Dantooine were all standing around him…but it wasn't him…it was his face but there was something different about the Revan that stood before them…he was new…like a droid after a memory wipe…he was clean. Bastila looking at him with contempt and disgust burning in her eyes…_You cannot win, Revan!_

It was enough…Revan wrenched his focus back, but the vision would not relinquish him.

He saw a man with tribal tattoos holding a bloody sword…_This is _your_ legacy! This is _your_ blood! And this is what _you_ left behind!_ The images started to flash faster and faster; faces he did not recognize, places he did not remember….

…_enough…!_

Feelings breached his protected walls and flooded his senses…feelings of fear, loss, anger, hate, suffering…and love.

…_enough…enough…please…_ he begged. His head felt like it was going to split; his eyes were watering in physical and emotional pain.

Malice poured in on him from every side. _What's this? A Sith Lord begging?_ Cynical laughter rang throughout Revan's head. _Listen here, little Sith…I _own _you._

_NO!_ It pressed in on him, making him feel trapped by his own conscious emotions, making him watch more and more of the too-fast images. He screwed up his face, wanting it to leave….

_He fights!_ More laughing.

_NO!_ His head was pounding, his heart was racing, his thoughts jumbled and scattered. He focused harder, pushing it all away, trying to leave his mind a blank slate…clear, without emotion and feeling.

_I own you! You obey _me!

"NO!" Revan was on his feet, saber drawn. He swung wildly, blindly. He saber connected to something, sparks flew in all directions. "NO!" Revan screamed again, not realizing that he was the one causing the sparks to fly in every direction. He brought the weapon down and again swung with all his might, nearly loosing his balance. Sparks showered down on him, fueling his blind one-sided duel. "You don't!" He hurled his saber, with all the strength he could muster, into a side panel of the dormitory.

The purple blade remained in the panel for a split second until it disengaged automatically and the handle fell to the floor with a clang, rolling under the space between floor and bottom of his bunk.

The force of his throw threw his balance off and he careened off to the left, crashing hard onto the floor. Panting hard, he looked around. There was a long slash mark above the little shelf that held the holopicture; there was another one just above the doorway. Both were long and flanked by scorch marks. Revan looked around and saw the panel that his saber had impaled; a twisted half melted blob of metal.

He gingerly got to his feet. That had not been what he had expected. He shook his head and looked down at his feet, ashamed that he lost control. That had never happened to him before, loosing control like that. What did it all mean?

This was a future…_his_ future. All of them were different though…or, he knew, they could all be the same one, just in a random order. He did not know. All he knew was that this was not a future he wanted at all. He remembered an old Jedi saying that Master Vandar often liked to repeat: The future is always in motion, difficult to see.

With his head still down staring at the metal floor in between his booted feet, he walked over to his bunk, got down on one knee and retrieved his lightsaber. He slid off his knee and slumped back on the metal panel. The cool panel felt good against his hot and sweaty back. He slid his head back and let it hit the panel behind him. He closed his eyes, thinking.

It was him…that voice…it was Revan. What he had been denying, even though that was what he was. It was taking over, it was slowly eating Revan alive with no hope of escape…it _was_ Revan. That evil was his own guts, inside him….

_No…_no I couldn't be…could it?

_Yes…search you feelings. You _know_ it to be true._

It was. It had happened the moment he had accepted his destiny. Without him, the Republic would crumble; one common foe.

He remembered another old saying, but this time of the Sith: The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Who was the enemy? Who was his friend? He did not know quite yet but knew that the saying fit his current situation. Who was he in all of this? Most saw him as the enemy; some saw him as the radical new change the Republic desperately needed.

His thoughts turned back to his own cold voice…. Was he prepared for what he had to do? Did he feel remorse for what he had already done? It was for the Republic, right? What about Kamryn? Was he prepared for the impact this could have on her? Was he prepared (and this next thought horrified him more then any other thought) to sacrifice his little girl for the greater good of the galaxy?

He stopped. Yes, he was prepared for what he had to do. No, he did not feel remorse for what he had already done. No…he was not prepared to sacrifice his whole world so that others could thrive. No…he would let the galaxy and Republic burn before he would even consider her…. There was another way. He knew it, but again that feeling of taunting, of knowing it was there but not seeing it, gripped him.

_There was another way…._

The humming of the engines slowed as his little blastboat rocked. He was coming out of hyperspace.

He stood up again, surveyed the damage to his dorm taking note of the twisted blob of metal on the far side and making a mental note to get it repaired while he was on Dxun. He walked over to the door, hit the slap pad and exited, walking purposefully to the cockpit.

XxX

"Well, this is just a barrel of fun," stated an exceptionally bored Carth Onasi.

He and Bastila were sitting back in the too small room waiting for Revan to arrive. The short-range transmission they had received earlier had been when He was about to enter hyperspace. Carth observed a particular disturbing detail that he wasn't sure he wanted to share just yet.

If they could only receive short-ranged communications…just _how_ close _was_ Revan? Carth hadn't bothered asking the officer as it would be impossible to track if it was from a ship. There was no technology to track a signal back to a ship because of the mobile transponder code. And he had a nasty feeling that Revan was smart enough not to set his base of operations on a planet where it could be tracked. It just made more sense that Revan was on a ship then a planet. Besides, all the planets that were close enough to send and receive short range communications had all been searched for Revan.

But Revan had tricked him before. Carth bitterly recalled how the young Jedi had swindled them all into believing that he was there to help defend the Republic against the Mandalorian threat…not betray it and leave it in darkness.

He chewed on his tongue as he leaned his chair back against the wall.

"Yes, well, patience is a virtue after all," said Bastila without much conviction. "We must be…," she sighed deeply with her eyes closed, "diplomatic."

"Yea, well you can be as diplomatic as you want, but if Revan runs the show, I don't think diplomacy will have much to with it. But you're welcome to try," he said, sucking through his teeth. "He's got half the Senate by the ba–"

Bastila stood up abruptly, causing the chair to slide back and bang into the wall behind her. She looked as though she would very much like to say what was burning inside her. But as she was trained, she forced her feelings back down and said, ever the diplomat, "We must do what we have been told, Carth. Even if we don't like it."

"Or…," said Carth with an air of sarcastic casualness, "we could defect to the Sith, rape, pillage and plunder our bloody hearts out, all the while taking what we want, giving nothing back. Betray the people that we swore we never would, laugh cruelly in the faces of people we swore we would protect and serve…." He looked up at the ceiling angrily, daring it to morph into his hated commanding officer.

There was a loud sniff from Bastila's direction and he swung around in time to see her sweep her hand across her face. A gesture he had never seen a Jedi do.

Carth let his chair fall to the floor with a clunk.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, concern and worry etched into his rugged, unshaven face. As much as he didn't like the Jedi, Bastila was still his friend.

Bastila sniffed again, looked up into Carth's eyes, and gave a smile that did not reach her eyes. "Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you don't look okay. Is everything alright?" he asked gently, knowing that something was wrong and not wanting to upset her more.

"Discussing…Revan…has always been difficult for me; especially after he left the Academy. To hear him being spoke of in such harsh terms is something I may never get used to," she sad quietly, looking back at her feet. She slowly sat back down in her chair.

"And why is that? Because of how you knew him at the Academy? As a saint? As the great prodigal Jedi Knight Revan?" he asked angrily. Why couldn't she get that he was the bad guy?

"No," said Bastila, still staring down. "He wasn't Revan when I knew him. Not yet."

Carth looked on in confusion what did that mean? Did that mean the Revan wasn't his real name? That just couldn't be possible! How could this be? Revan was the name he had grown to hate, to loathe. And now, the planet rattling possibility that he could have been someone other then Revan _before_ the Mandalorian Wars; that he was not always called General Revan, Commander Revan…Darth Revan, Dark Lord Revan…_Dread_ Lord Revan was…mind boggling. A man as terrible as him, going by a name other the Revan? It was…it was just impossible.

"I remember him as a kind and passionate young man. _Very_ passionate. When he left for the war, I was still a Padawan. A year before the wars broke out, he was Knighted. Youngest to be Knighted from our generation, I think," she spoke in a monotonous tone. Carth noticed how it just came out of her, unedited and unrevised, as most of the Jedi speak.

She did not look up, but instead continued to stare unblinkingly at her hands. She didn't move, she didn't sigh or shudder, she just spoke. "He always valued life, I remember," she spoke in that same tone. "But he had a terrible temper. Broke his first two lightsabers out of frustration. Nearly broke the arm of old man Matale, because he was stealing from the Enclave's water supply," she paused and drew breath still staring at her hands. "Even though he valued life among any thing, he despised weakness. I don't know how else to describe it. It's as if he would help you if, and only if, you did everything you possibly could for yourself. And even then he would only help enough for you to do it yourself. Only if you were completely helpless…," she spoke, raising her head to look at Carth.

"Who was he?" he asked. When he asked it was without malice, without anger.

"He was…," Bastila paused before realizing where she was and came out of her reverie. She blinked once, and all at once she was back. No longer was she staring at her hands, no longer was she talking in that quiet, child like tone. All at once, Jedi Knight Bastila Shan, Jedi representative, Senate liaison and head of the Onderon Restoration Project was back. "He was a power hungry man. All he cared about was getting what he wanted by any means necessary," she said coldly.

Carth was not about to give up. "Yes but you said he wasn't Revan when you knew him. Who did you know back at the Academy?" he said urgently. He had to know who he was fighting.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes!" Carth exclaimed.

"Why? I'll never know or see that man ever again. Revan killed him and took his body."

"It matters, because…because," he searched for the right words. "Because it means that he's _human!_ That he has a weakness just like us! That he _is_ human and not the god he wants everyone to think he is! That he _can_ be beat! That I can fight against a _man_ not a _title_!"

"No."

"Wha–what?" Carth asked, flabbergasted.

"I'm not ready to ruin that name for other people. Many don't know what happened to him, assuming he was killed in the war. I don't want to ruin their view of the only hope they ever saw. It would crush many across the galaxy to know that their savior was dead, killed by this…monster. People just can't know that they are one and the same. I can barely even accept it. He changed so much since the war; but at the same time…he didn't change at all," she said quietly. She rose from the table gracefully, said "I'm going to check when he should be arriving." And exited the tiny room; now short one Jedi.

Carth half rose, intending to follower her, but when he saw her turn the opposite direction of the control room, he understood. It was an excuse; she just wanted to be alone.

XxX

_**A/N**_**: Okay because I'm stupid and had to write an AU fic, I had to also come up with a timeline that fit my story. So I'll be brief: 6 years ago, Revan was knighted. 1 year after his knighting, the Mando Wars started. 6 months after the wars started, Revan leaves to go fight. After 2 and a half years of fighting, Revan ends the war. (the Mando Wars lasted for 3 years) this is where it gets confusing so read carefully…1 month after the war ends, Revan goes missing for 10 months (all together 11 months since the wars ended). The same month that he comes back, (month "12" start of the next year) he "officially" resigns as a member of the order, starts the Jedi Civil War, goes to the ceremony of Bastila being promoted, and then publicly announces his ties to the Sith. All in the span of two years. Revan was 19 when he was Knighted, and now he is a Sith Lord at 25. 6 years. He was a pretty busy guy.**


	3. Family

Bastila sat quietly by herself. She didn't know what was going on. She knew her mission, she knew her priorities, but she didn't know what to do anymore. Everything just got that more complicated by the arrival of Revan. He was the germ that caused all this. He was the disease that spread through the galaxy, spreading hate, infecting minds, killing for his cause….

It was a beautiful day outside. The sun was shining through some low hanging clouds, and for once, it wasn't hot and humid. It wasn't threatening to rain either. Out on the horizon was the blue ocean, its tides bringing in the sound of water washing onto the sand and splashing on the out cropping of rocks that dotted the outer most area of the shore. Sea birds were squawking contently and the wind's breeze warmed her bare skin. And it was mocking her.

She felt horrible. It should be raining and cloudy, not sunny and beautiful. She scowled as another warm breeze blew lightly across her face, making her auburn hair sway gently.

Plants were dotted here and there throughout the little area that Bastila sat. Underneath a particularly big plant was a slab of stone that was perfect for sitting or lying down. Instead of doing either, she sat with her back against the slab with her feet curled underneath her. The plant above her swayed in the warm breeze, throwing her face into shadow then light.

She sighed. It shouldn't have been like this. After the war was over, they were supposed to resign from the Order and just run. They were supposed to love each other openly and without fear. It was supposed to be like that! Not this way! Not with Revan eating away at the galaxy. He was a good man, with good morals and….

A single tear slipped down her cheek. He _had _been a good man, she corrected.

She shook herself out of it. Was this anyway to behave in a crisis? Was this the behavior of a Jedi? She couldn't believe herself. She was still acting as that naive Padawan she remembered being. How long ago was that? It seemed like lifetime ago, or like she'd seen it a HoloDrama, or as though a story someone once told her.

It was all just so surreal. She couldn't believe this was happening. Some Jedi she was.

XxX

The bright lines of hyperspace streaked to a stop and the little moon of Dxun came in to view through the forward portal. It rotated serenely completely unaware of the newly orbiting ship. The sparkling blackness that was space surrounded the little moon, wrapping it in its cold embrace. The blackness contrasted the dark greenery of the moon nicely. The few cloud swirls that hung just over the surface swam through the atmosphere like tissue in water. It was truly a beautiful sight. The blue oceans, the swirling clouds, the dark green plant life… just this view from space was enough to make anyone appreciate being alive.

Revan, sitting in his seat, flicked a few switches and pushed a few buttons. The beauty of Dxun was lost on him. The blastboat's vibrating stopped slightly as manual control was flipped over. Revan grasped the control stick and pushed it down slightly so he would get captured by the gravity of Dxun. The little ship shuddered as it was taken into orbit. After positioning _Battlefront_ in the orbit, Revan flicked some more switches and autopilot was swapped back.

He leaned back in his seat, the combination of armor and leather creaking as he crossed his arms and glared at Dxun. His jaw muscles in his cheeks flexed then relaxed several times before he leaned forward again and flicked on his comm unit.

"This is _Corellian_ Class _Delta_ ship _Battlefront_ ID code 43451 requesting landing instructions to Dxun. Over," he spoke through the unit.

He hated this place. All it did was remind him of the person that he once was, the person that died here, fighting for a better galaxy. Every person that he'd had to kill, a little bit of himself died with them until he was just the husk of who he used to be.

He remembered the camp that he was stationed at on Dxun. It was deep in the jungle, where the humidity would get to you before the Mando'as could. The blasters would jam from the heat, the food was always soggy, and you were always wet either because of the rain, the humidity or the sweat. Or all three.

The comms crackled to life and a voice came over. "Acknowledged, _Battlefront_. This is second class Lieutenant Solo. Please state your business, and how long you'll be staying. Over."

A ripple of irritation went through Revan. This was to be expected, everyone in this system would be on high alert for Revan's arrival. His jaw muscles flexed and relaxed again. He flipped the switch to the unit.

"Acknowledged, Lieutenant. I have a negotiation about this planet's absorption into the New Sith Order arranged with Jedi Shan. Along with the sake of your job," he said lightly as though he were joking with his old war buddies. "And I'll be staying as long as needed."

There was a long pause at the other end. Revan supposed Solo was alerting the entire base of his arrival. Or he was just stupid. The unit crackled to life again and a different voice spoke. "Revan?"

Revan's eyes narrowed. This voice was familiar some how…. It stirred in him something that he did not like feeling and had not felt since before the war. Guilt? No, that wasn't it…or was it? "Yes. To whom am I speaking? Identify yourself," he commanded.

There was another long pause before the unit crackled again. "You son of a murglak! You have no–!" there were sounds of a struggle emitting from the other end. Muffled yells and a few blaster shots could be heard, then the connection went dead. Revan sat back in his chair and smiled, amused. This was to be expected.

The unit stayed silent for several minutes before it again came to life. Revan leaned forward, his armor creaking menacingly, interested in who was speaking now. "Revan?"

"Darth Revan," he corrected. "To whom am I speaking?" The unit was silent.

"Of course," said the voice, acknowledging the correction but not caring. "You are speaking to Solo again. You may enter the atmosphere and land. The landing pad and base is north, northeast of the East Sea. You'll see the broken comms array," he said, bitterness creeping into his voice. "Do you require assistance?" Solo asked, ever the professional.

"No. That will not be necessary. Just send the coordinates, Lieutenant. Over and out." He switched off his unit, leaned back into his seat and glared at the moon again. A second later his HUD blinked and beeped at him, displaying the coordinates. He didn't make a move to put them into the nav computer. What if they were coordinates to one of the oceans? No he couldn't have that. He'd follow them in manually, and if they proved to be false, he would vape them. He wasn't about to come to this little moon unarmed and alone. They didn't need to know that an _Indictor_ class ship was hiding in the light of the sun waiting instructions from Revan if anything happened that he didn't like. Come to think of it, he could just comm his ship and verify the coordinates.

He switched on his comm unit again, flipped a few switches, then turned a knob onto the appropriate channel. "Confirm these coordinates immediately." He hit a few buttons and the codes were transmitted to his flag ship.

Less then fifteen seconds later (he was timing him) a gruff voice answered. "Confirmed, Master. They are indeed sending you where they said they would." The voice sounded disappointed and dejected.

Revan smiled again. "You were listening to our exchanges." It was not a question or an accusation. It was a fact.

"Yes, Master…I was concerned for your well being…," the voice trailed off, obviously lost for words.

"When Hutts ride swoops, Malak," was all Revan said before switching off the unit.

He leaned forward, programmed the codes into his Nav system and autopilot. He leaned back again into his seat and strapped himself in. The engines kicked in and the little blastboat shuddered as it was propelled forward.

XxX

Malak stood still as the connection to his master's ship was cut. He didn't understand his master very well. Sometimes he was the ruthless, merciless Sith Lord that had brought himself to the edge of insanity, other times he was happy, even going as far as joking with the men about menial things like the abysmal food that was served, or the cold barracks that they were forced to sleep in. Malak just didn't understand it. Was this another test? Or was this just Revan beginning to crack?

Revan cracking up seemed to be the most probable. Up all hours of the day, not sleeping or taking a rest. Malak himself had seen Revan go several days without sleep. And he could never understand why his master did this.

He also never took off that odd armor. He'd asked Revan where he'd gotten it once, only to be rebuked, saying something about war trophies and honor. Later, he'd overheard one of the men explaining the armor and what it meant to another.

"Mandalorian blood armor; meaning he was exiled from a clan. Either that or he stripped it off an exiled Mando. But that's supposed to be a big no-no. But I doubt that he stripped it," said one while scrubbing a droid's memory.

"Why?" asked the other doing the same thing.

"How many Mandalorians did you see walking around letting all the clans know that they had been exiled?" said the other cryptically. He closed the main panel and continued. "I'll tell you this though; any man that wears that, after all that the Mandos did, it really makes me wonder. He wears that, and in my opinion, it makes him _one of them_," he said vehemently.

Malak shook his head and ran a hand over his smooth face. He scratched his chin for a moment, deep in thought.

He reflected on all that his Master had done since he had been apprenticed to him. None of it lined up. While he attacked the weaker planets, he left the military ones untouched and in tacked. Why would he do that? It just didn't seem right. His master also had other inconsistencies that left Malak baffled. These men were beneath Revan and himself, but sometimes, Revan would go and sit with them during meals or talk with them when there was downtime available. Other times, Revan would space an officer just because he hadn't shined his shoes. None of it made any sense. And there was still that armor that he wore. What did that even mean?

Was he testing them? Could he possibly be testing Malak for signs of some sort? Was this another of his games? Either way Malak was unsure of what to do.

Malak snapped himself out of this. It was nonsense. Revan knew exactly what he was doing and it was not Malak's place to question him. Yet he couldn't help but feel that Revan wasn't firing on all thrusters. He squared his shoulders and walked out of the communications room.

His black robes swirling around him as he strode down the gleaming corridors, he made his way to the bridge where he checked that the crew was still attending to their duties.

A thought crossed his mind as thoughts often do.

_Only two. A master and an apprentice._

It was time to make the transition from apprentice to master.

XxX

Tensions ran high as the communication was cut. Three men had had to drag Lieutenant Onasi away from the room as he started screaming at Revan about what he'd done to the Republic. While everyone here agreed with the good Lieutenant, they did not, however, share his enthusiasm to let Revan know exactly what they thought of him.

Carth sat quietly in the busy control room, while Bastila was busily instructing people what to do in preparation for _his_ arrival.

"And get the VIP room ready," she said to an officer as she double checked Revan's ETA. She glanced over at Carth who had his arms crossed protectively over his chest, staring at the ceiling. He was deliberately not looking at her, and she knew it. She motioned to him with her hand. After a moment of pretending that he hadn't seen her, he stood up and walked over.

"What?"

"I could have you court-martialed for pulling a stunt like that, you know," she said off-handedly, still checking that things were going smoothly. "You're lucky you didn't shoot anyone."

"I was aiming for the comm unit. If Solo hadn't grabbed me, I would've gotten it too," he said fiercely.

"Yes well, be happy that you didn't get the unit or you would have been removed from this operation immediately. And you would most certainly would have to deal with me," she spoke calmly, turning her attention from one computer to another.

Carth just glared at her. How could she not be angry that that scumbag was coming here? He did nothing but lie and betray and she was treating him like a guest! "He destroyed my life, Bastila! He took my son, he took my wife and he took my homeworld away from me! He doesn't deserve the VIP room! He deserves a long rope and a quick drop!" he said seething. Almost as an after thought he added, "Dealing with you would be the least of my problems and a happy distraction!"

Not missing a beat, Bastila continued looking things over. She moved from one computer to another without pause. "You're not the only one who has suffered at Revan's hands, Onasi," she said with the barest hints of bitterness creeping into her voice. "Hand me that clipboard," she said to an officer, gesturing to it. "You aren't the only person in the galaxy, or the only family to be torn apart by him," she sighed and continued, "and I highly doubt that yours will be the last, so I suggest you focus your energies on helping us instead of dwelling in the past," she spoke as she continued to look over the clipboard. "No, this isn't right…," she said to one of the officers.

Carth seethed with anger. "You just don't get it, do you? You Jedi with your no emotion and your code!" he raged. His family was being put into contrast by a _Jedi!_ His _family! _"You wouldn't know anything about family! Couldn't know what it feels like to make a life! To see it grow! Then have it all ripped away from you!" He drew in a deep breath. "My family was all I had! Was my life! You couldn't possibly understand what that means, because you are a _Jedi!_" he said angrily. He didn't, shout, or yell, just spoke with a deadliness that she hadn't heard him use since the Mando'a Wars. He glared at her a moment as if daring her to rebuke him, when she didn't say anything he turned on his heel and walked out of the busy room, leaving an angry and hurt wake washing behind him.

Bastila just stared at the clipboard for a moment, not seeing. She couldn't tell him that she knew how he felt; she couldn't tell him that she did know how it felt like to make a life, to feel it growing…. She couldn't tell him that she had once loved and loved being loved in return; she couldn't tell him that she had everything ripped away from her as well. She couldn't tell him that she remembered what it felt like to be betrayed and lied to. She couldn't tell him about feeling as though all her breath had been taken away, then going blind and deaf all at the same time. She couldn't tell him any of this…because she was unquestionably and faithfully still a...Jedi. And that's all she ever would be.

"Ma'am?"

Bastila looked up from the clipboard but still had a distant look in her face. "What is it, Solo?" she asked without emotion.

Solo looked at her a moment before answering. "Are you alright?"

Bastila registered the question but didn't really hear it. Solo gave her a puzzled look while letting the question hang in the air. Bastila nodded once and turned away to look over the clipboard. Solo watched her look it over with the same distant look and sad eyes. He saw her sweep a hand across her cheek. She sniffed quietly.

Years later, Solo would tell the story, to his disbelieving grandchildren, of the Jedi he'd once seen cry.

XxX

The little blastboat rocked and shuddered more violently then before. Revan grasped the control stick tightly in his hands trying to keep it steady. _The Battlefront_ moaned under the velocity and intense heat of rapid-entry. Revan struggled with the stick. He considered using the Force to help himself but decided against it, instead seeing if he could do this on pure will and strength alone.

The little ship gave an all mighty lurch, and Revan registered the fact that he was glad that he was strapped in. A second later his HUD started flashing and beeping at him. This wasn't good, he was venting oxygen and he was in the atmosphere. Oxygen was flammable, and if he didn't do something quick, the heat from RE would ignite the oxygen and he'd burn up.

He swapped over to autopilot; the ship lurched again and slipped sideways in the atmosphere. The little ship was spinning out of control, completely off course. He flicked switches and pushed buttons; the affected area that had been breeched had been sealed off. He looked down at his HUD; the red flashing was still informing him that something was wrong. There was nothing else for it. He plunged into the Force head first; he reached out with his awareness and tried to find the problem; realizing that not only was he venting oxygen from another source, he was losing internal pressure. If this kept up he'd implode.

He reached to his left and put his helmet on, securing it tightly with the chin strap. The Force told him he'd need it.

He gathered the Force around him in great swirls and torrents, bringing it in tighter and closer to him. Then he let it go, releasing a tightly coiled spring, and the Force exploded throughout the ship. Revan pushed it into the interior walls, pushing outward. The little ship shuddered for a moment then stabilized. Revan barely registered that the flashing stopped.

Testing himself, he eased up on the Force pressure; immediately the ship lurched. He reestablished the tight hold he had on the ship. He didn't know how long he'd have to keep this up. He couldn't take his attention away form the venting pressure for fear of imploding then burning up, but then he couldn't gain control back of the ship. None of this was good. So far his choices were take the Force pressure away to control the ship and implode, thus dying, or keep up with the Force pressure, not gain control of the ship and risk crashing and dying anyway.

_Great choices…._

A plan formed in his mind. He'd at least have to keep this up until he was under the atmosphere, then maybe he could wrap the Force around himself. The ship was too far gone to be saved. He knew as soon as he released the pressure keeping the ship together, it would cave in on itself; he'd never have enough time to gather enough of the Force around him….

Then, it clicked.

He gathered the Force tighter around himself. _The Battlefront_ shuddered and started to collapse. Again, releasing it like a spring, but this time not containing it or controlling it, he let the pressure push the ship apart. The ship expanded, moaning and shrieking as metal was separated from metal. Hissing was heard as the rivets holding the ship together pinged off the interior. The ship expanded like a bubble, ready to pop.

_Battlefront_ really started to shake now, jinking and juking in all directions. Revan didn't know which was up and which was down; but it didn't matter. He continued to push the ship to its breaking point. Then, as he broke the atmosphere, there was a moment, the moment he had been waiting for, where everything seemed to slow down. The shuddering stopped, the roaring in his ears died, and everything lost it sound. It was like someone hit the mute button on his holounit.

In an instant, he pulled the Force back in on himself, taking advantage of the short span that it would take for the ship to implode after it was forced apart. He wrapped himself tightly in the Force, creating a hardened invisible bubble around him. In the same instant, he hit the eject switch on the side of his chair.

All at once the sound was back on; rivets pinging off the inside, the roar of the wind, the beeping and flashing.

The chair gave a lurch as its locking mechanism was released. The chair shot through the weak canopy of the ship with a crash. Revan tucked his head to his armored chest and prayed to the Force that this would work.


	4. Surprise

"Ma'am!" There was chaos in the control room. Troopers were scrambling every which way and Bastila was in the midst of it, shouting orders over the frantic voices that were vying for her attention.

"Get me eyes!" she snapped as she quickly stepped in front of the view screen. "I need to know what happened _now!_"

"There was an explosion just southwest of here. Revan's ship exploded on atmospheric entry!" shouted one officer, evident excitement in his voice. There was cheering in the back of the room, but the chaos was hardly contained.

"We don't know that, trooper," Bastila said tightly, feeling a great heaviness slowly expanding in her chest. The ship had exploded. That was clear enough as she watched shards of metal and plastic rain down in flaming hunks, but Bastila just couldn't believe that Revan had perished in the blast. She felt sick for hoping that he had, but felt even sicker knowing that he didn't. Just before the explosion, the Jedi had felt a tremendous pull in the Force, as if all the air had been sucked out of an airlock. It left her feeling disoriented and blind even though she could very clearly see. Whatever had happened, Revan was alive.

"You!" she barked at a nearby officer, "deploy Alpha-Team-Charlie to scan the area. If Revan _is_ alive, we want him right now." The officer scrambled to get it done, turning a knob to the appropriate comms channel and gave the order.

There was a distinct choking feeling taking hold of her heart at this very moment that was making it increasingly difficult to concentrate. The woman's stomach was balled up in knots as she tried hard not to think about whom else might have been on that ship with Revan. But no, he would not be so stupid or arrogant to bring her with him, would he? No, no of course not. If there was one thing that Revan cared about more than choking the very life out of the galaxy, it was her. He would not use her to get to Bastila.

She tried valiantly to reason with herself, but knew that there would be no way to tell who else was on the boat aside from that man's word. She had not been in Force contact with her daughter for over three years, and Revan had made sure to deaden the bond between mother and daughter as much as he could. Bastila knew this. Yet, she still felt her heart in her throat even as she forced herself to make arrangements to send out a rescue team to find the man she would rather see dead.

"And get Onasi up here!" she shouted at no one in particular. "I need all pilots in the hangar warming up the evac ships in case the Sith decide to raze Dxun." She turned her eyes to the view screen once more. "All non-personnel are to get on a ship and wait for further orders as soon as we know something!"

The woman frantically began to hit the call button on the comms unit, desperately trying to establish a connection to Revan before the Sith in orbit decided to take things into their own hands. "Revan!" she called, a sharp spike in her voice. "Revan! Do you read?" she demanded. The only thing that feedback she received from the unit was white static. She cursed softly under her breath before dialing the knob to a different frequency. There had to be a ship up there. Revan would not be so stupid to come alone and unarmed to a planet full of angry people he had just conquered.

Swallowing, Bastila held the device to her lips. "Attention, this is Bastila Shan of the Republic enclave base 060590," she said slowly, hoping against all hope that the Sith vessel would heed her hail and answer back. "There was an explosion and we have lost contact with Lord Revan. This was not an attack by this base. I repeat: this was _not_ and attack on his vessel by this base." Bastila let go of the button and reached out with the Force, trying to find any comfort or hint of what might happen. She didn't feel anything to indicate immediate danger; no ripple in the Force.

After several agonizing minutes, and repeated messages by the Jedi, there was a crackle over the comm speakers that made Bastila's heart clench.

"Bastila Shan," came a voice that made Bastila's skin scrawl. "So nice to see you're alive and well." There was an amused pause and then— "You will locate Lord Revan or we shall be forced to open fire on you for the attempted capture of a political figure."

"What?" she gasped. "You can't possibly be serious! We had—"

But her reply was cut short. "Get it done, Jedi."

XxX

In the time it took his ship to disintegrate in the atmosphere of Dxun, Revan had already fallen several thousand meters inside his Force bubble. The strength he needed to keep the bubble around himself was having a heavy toll on his muscles. Already there was a small sheen of sweat on his skin, making his armor unbearably hot and sticky. Beads of sweat were slowly rolling down his forehead and getting caught in his dark eyebrows as he fought with all his concentration to keep himself from catching fire. As he was trained in the ways of the Force, Revan had of course free fallen many times, but never from this height or with bits of flaming plastic and melted blobs of metal falling with him.

Not only did he have to concentrate on not letting his protective bubble evaporate around him, but he also had to make sure none of the debris from his ship penetrated his bubble. It was rather like trying not to touch a single raindrop while it was down pouring. Luckily, at the speed he was falling, the ground of Dxun was fast approaching which left the man more focused on how to land without breaking anything rather be distracted by the flaming remnants of his favorite ship.

Bracing himself for impact, Revan pancaked his Force bubble out in an attempt to slow himself down. There was a forest of trees that he was headed straight for and he'd rather not hit a Dxun forest at terminal velocity. The Sith Lord rather liked being in one piece with all of his limps.

Letting out a roar, the Sith Lord hit the tree line and felt the branches and vines slap the armor around his body. The small _ping!_ his armor made as the top parts of the vegetation made contact with his metal armor made Revan cram his eyes shut as he was hurled into the ground. At long last, there was an eruption of dirt and sand as Revan hit Dxun's surface and slid a clear ten meters before coming to a sudden halt. He had landed face first, his hands out in front of him as though he were flying.

Groaning heavily, the man forced himself over onto his back and laid there for a moment, panting hard as he took a moment to let his screaming muscles relax from the strain. Not everyone – not even someone trained in the ways of the Force – could say that they fell through the atmosphere of a planet and survived. The fabric of his cloak was shredded from the force of his impact and his armor was brown with mud. Coughing hard, Revan pulled his mask off his face and threw it to the ground. There he stood, with his hands on his knees as he panted at the ground. After a moment of trying to calm his nerves, the man heaved and vomited all over the ground on which he'd just hit. Even the Great Lord Revan was not immune to Death, and having miraculously escaped it when it had so clearly held the man in its hands left Revan grateful to be alive.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his armored hand, Revan coughed once more before spitting out the remaining vomit. He felt shaky but all too glad to be alive. Though not afraid of Death, the man was not ready to go. And if the Force had other plans for him, then he would fight them with all he had. His plans to protect everything he loved would not succeed with him dead. Though the Republic would be more than happy to claim his death as a great victory to liberty, they would really be celebrating the death of the entire galaxy by another force.

As he was wiping his brow, Revan felt a sting just above his eye. Hissing quietly, the man brought his hand down and was shocked to see his fingers covered in blood. Gingerly, he dabbed at the cut just through his eyebrow and realized that extended slightly below his eye. He hissed in pain again as he felt a small gush of blood roll out of the cut and drip down his face. Grunting, Revan bent down and retrieved his helmet, looking at it carefully. There was a dent in it that lined up perfectly with his eye. Flipping it over to inspect the inside, Revan saw that there was a small jagged piece of metal jutting out from the very peak of the dent. The Sith Lord sighed, and pressed his finger against it. Knowing he would not be able to force it out with his thumb, the man resigned himself to wearing it until he could fix it back on his flagship.

It was lucky that he placed his helmet back on when he did as he heard the recognizable roar of a starship flying near him. The trees bent in the wake of the fighter as it flew overhead and Revan looked sourly up at it. Well that was fast. Shan must be worried about retaliation on Malak's part if she was actually willing to part with a few ships to search for him.

Sighing heavily, the former Jedi walked over the bulk of his ship, wading through various pieces of debris. Locating the approximate part of where the cockpit should be, Revan dug through the wreckage, hoping to find his comms unit so he could radio for pickup. Frowning as he extracted the unit, Revan flipped it around and determined that it was too far gone to even use as a doorstop. With that, the young man set off in search for an open area. He sure hoped that Shan's fighter units spotted him before Malak razed the entirety of Dxun's surface.

Making sure his lightsaber was clipped securely to his belt, Revan made his way to the shores of the East Sea. Just before he hit the trees, he had spotted the vast body of water not far from here. He would walk there and try to flag down anyone who may have been passing by at the moment. Revan knew he should be concerned about any attacks but he was confident that no trooper would be stupid enough to do so. Even a blaster sucker had to know that if any harm fell upon him, that the entire Sith Armada would wipe out the entire planet before anyone would have time to evacuate, and no one wanted that. And, if worse came to worse, and Revan _was_ forced to defend himself, there was no wondering who would win. Should any trooper actually be stupid enough to try and take Revan on, they would soon find themselves dead and without a ship.

This line of thought lead Revan to wonder why _The Battlefront_ had failed to remain stable upon atmospheric entry. Surely no one had been stupid enough to sabotage it? Rovert was the last person (who he knew of) to be around the ship at all, but that meant very little. Revan knew for a fact that Malak was chomping at the bit, looking for a way to get rid of his master so that he might lead the Sith in a glorious battle against the Republic… But this seemed so unlike him.

Of course the military base that held Shan could also be an option, though he doubted it very much. He read no EMP pulses or magnetic fields as he was entering the planet's atmosphere so all that was left was either an error on his part, which, he scoffed, was impossible or someone on his ship was deliberately trying to kill him while making it look like an accident. That seemed far more likely than any other scenario he could think of.

But who would be stupid enough to actually attempt an assassination of Darth Revan?

XxX

Malak turned slowly in Revan's command chair, his long legs crossed and his hand on his chin. He had read something wrong with Revan's ship long before it had started showing signs of disintegration. The large Sith Apprentice stroked his facial hair slowly, deep in thought as to how he should proceed. It seemed as though the Force was on his side today, for he had made the decision to kill his master just moments before his blast-boat exploded. Though he knew his master not to be dead, it was still difficult not to wonder if somehow he was barely alive, horribly disfigured. If so, then killing him would be much easier than taking him on through lightsaber combat. It was no secret that Revan was the superior swordsman, so a lightsaber duel was out of the question. But if he could somehow weaken his Sith Master, then victory could very well be possible.

Leaning back in his chair, Malak brought a glass full of the same amber liquid Revan had shared with Asil to his lips, and sipped on it lightly. He could get used to this being his personal study. Revan used this place as a retreat, as someplace where he would not have to face the atrocities he committed every day. It was a waste of space and resources to keep his failing master's conscious somewhat clear. Revan was a fool not to embrace the entirety of the Dark Side as Malak had. Revan was weak and needed to be eradicated. Which is exactly why Malak had not told his master of the cut fuel lines.

Malak didn't know who did it or why they were severed, only that whoever was trying to kill Revan was also helping Malak attain his ultimate goal: to be ruler of the galaxy. There were many, many people who wanted Revan dead of course. He was systematically taking over the Republic one planet system at a time while the Senate could do nothing about it but give into his demands. It was strange, and Malak didn't understand it at all, but for every senator of an unconquered planet that was calling for the immediate declaration of war against the New Sith Order, there were two more senators of conquered planets who were more or less willing to let Revan take over the galaxy….

Malak had to wonder if some of these senators knew something he didn't or if Revan had gone even softer than Malak had first suspected. Undoubtedly, there would soon be a civil war if Revan did not gain control of the remaining naysayers of the Senate. Even the Supreme Chancellor was reluctant to throw all his forces behind a campaign against Revan, opting instead to offer troops and supplies to planets who needed help recovering from the devastation Revan had brought.

Chewing on his cheek lightly, Malak spun in his chair and pressed a button. "Rovert!" he commanded.

At once, the tiny man came shuffling in through the doorway of Revan's study.

"Y-yes, Lord?" Rovert asked trembling slightly with trepidation.

Malak let a sick smile slide over his face as he leaned forward. "Tell me, slime. Who is trying to kill Lord Revan?" he asked with a deadly silkiness to his voice.

Rovert trembled even more noticeably.

"I… I do not know, My Lord," whimpered the servant, desperately looking like he'd give anything to just evaporate on the spot.

Malak smirked and narrowed his eyes at the man. "I think you do, Rovert," Malak said softly. "Who else but you would know everything about our master?" he asked as his lips curled back into a sneer. It was a legitimate question and not without its truth. Rovert was always close at hand when Revan was around. He had been privy to more secret meetings between politicians and military leaders than Malak had ever been. Rovert was quiet, small and unimposing; everything Malak wasn't. The little man was able to be places and have ears and eyes that most senior officers would kill to have. And Malak was very willing to kill if it meant he'd have ears and eyes in places where he wanted them.

There was a flash and in the next second Rovert was curled up in a ball and screaming in pain as electricity danced over his frail body. "Tell me!" Malak demanded has his fingers smoked with heat.

Rovert let out a pathetic whimper but all it did was spur Malak on. There was a crackle of as his fingers sparked with lightening. Rovert's shoulders shook as he sobbed in terror. Malak let his smile grow wider.

"You are weak and pathetic!" There was another charge in the air as the deranged Sith Apprentice let loose with another barge of electricity. The little blue arcs wound and jumped their way over Rovert's body as the human writhed and screamed in agony. Every nerve was on fire and he felt his back teeth crack as his muscles spasms tore through his body. He was screaming, begging his lord to stop, and sobbing uncontrollably as Malak just laughed.

At long last it stopped, and Rovert curled up into the fetal position, trembling. Breathing in short deep breaths, Rovert mumbled a name.

"Speak up!" Malak snapped impatiently.

"Lord Asil!" Rovert sobbed, his skin smoking and burned.

A sickly satisfied smile curled Malak's lips. "Very good," he hissed softly to himself. In an instant, Malak was on his feet. He stepped over the sobbing pathetic mess of a man that was Rovert and slapped his hand against the door pad. Just as it opened with a soft _whoosh!_ Malak was gone, leaving Revan's servant curled up in a ball on the floor.

XxX

Bastila sat on edge. She had just gotten a report back that Alpha-Team-Charlie had just picked up Revan and were on their way back to the enclave. The brunette wrung her hands and kept an eye on the chrono. They should be showing up at any moment with that monster in tow. When he got here, he would be escorted by Bastila herself and an armed entourage to the VIP room where he would be staying. Every person on base had explicit instructions not to go anywhere near the VIP room unless otherwise stated or invited by Bastila. She didn't need anyone getting hurt just because Revan was bored.

There was a blip over the intercom and Bastila jumped. "Package has arrived, ma'am," came the carefully controlled voice of Solo.

Swallowing hard, Bastila steeled her nerves and stood up, throwing a nervous glance at Carth's direction. He was red with rage and looked to be holding his breath. Bastila couldn't blame him but had to warn him nonetheless. "You are to stay away from him. You are to stay away from his room. You are to stay away from that entire level while he is here. Do you understand me?" Her words were harsh, but she tried to make her tone sound soft. It was extremely contradictory even to her.

There was no answer from the pilot.

"Carth!" Bastila snapped.

Carth sat with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his scruffy face red as his lips were pressed tightly together. He let out a sharp sigh. "Fine," he spoke through his teeth and Bastila knew it took all his strength to agree to what she was asking. She also knew that if any other person had been in command of this enclave, Carth would have told them to sod off long ago. The Jedi nodded to him in respect and placed a soft hand on the soldier's shoulder and squeezed gently.

As she made her way to the hangar, Bastila took notice every single person's posture. Each trooper seemed more alert with their blasters held tighter and higher in their grip. The scientists shot each other nervous glances and would often tap their personal small carbine blaster carefully as if sure that Revan would pop out and kill them on the spot just for existing.

Bastila couldn't blame them. She was very aware of her lightsaber bouncing on her hip as she walked brusquely forward. This would be the first time she'd have seen him since she spotted him at the Award Ceremony sometime last year. She wondered how different he might look now, but pushed it from her mind. _Focus on the present_ she told herself. The here and now. There was no point in wondering what could have been and instead rechanneled her energy into changing what might be.

All too soon, she was standing in front of the door that lead to the hangar. There was a noticeable change in her heartbeat and she felt herself swallow several times as she screwed up her courage to hit the slap-pad to open the door. She stood there for another minute, collecting herself. Reaching up, the Jedi was just about to hit the slap-pad when the door slid open on its own. She gasped and took a hasty step back and found herself staring into the cold mask of Darth Revan.

There was a very pregnant pause as Bastila and Revan both stared at each other. This was the first time they had stood together since before he left the Academy and it left Bastila with her heart pumping and looking flustered.

Revan looked cold and imposing: as still as a statue in his full Mandalorian armor with that cold T-shaped visor in his helmet. Bastila could just picture his eyes staring out at her through the narrow slit and vaguely found herself wondering if they were the sick yellow color that was normal for all Dark Siders or if they were still the rich and vibrant green she remembered.

"Is this how you treat honored guests?" he asked her slowly, nodding his head to the troopers.

All around her, troopers had their baster rifles leveled at Revan, ready to pull the trigger at the slightest of his movements.

A flash of annoyance flitted across her face as she glared at him. Pursing her lips, Bastila held her hand out to Revan. "Lightsaber. Now."

There was a deep rumble of laughter that came from Revan and it immediately put Bastila on edge. Slowly, he reached to his hip. Every trooper within the vicinity tightened their grip on their blasters and slipped their fingers over the trigger. Bastila watched as slowly he unclipped the lightsaber and placed it into the palm of her hand. There was a collective sigh of relief and each trooper relaxed a slightly.

Carefully, Bastila took Revan's lightsaber and hooked it to her own belt on the other side of her hip. Looking around, she nodded to the troopers to drop their guns. Hesitantly, each one did so, but very reluctantly.

"Ah, see? That wasn't so hard was it?" came the amused voice of Revan.

Bastila scowled. "Follow me," she ordered.

"Of course," he said. Bastila hated how agreeable he was to everything.

XxX

**Wow, it's been a loooooonng time guys. Four years? Yeah. Holy cow. I don't think anyone from when I originally put this up is still around, but hey. At least I'm back! Kinda? A lot has happened. Anyway, if it pleases the court (that would be you guys) I'm going to try to update and finish this story. I've got a lot of it mapped out already… I know the twists and turns. The hard part will just be finding some quiet time to sit down and write it out.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading!**


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